“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“It was quick. I mean, it didn’t seem like that at the time…”
“What happened?”
“Cancer. She suddenly felt very tired and when it persisted they did some tests, even tried an operation, chemo… She was ill for a long time. At the end, they wanted me to put her in a hospice, but I brought her home. She’d always worked so hard to take care of me—”
Roarke heard the sudden catch in her voice and swung round to face her. “Dammit, I’m a fool,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t mean to make you think of sad things.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. “Let’s go home. We’ll go out on the balcony and watch for shooting stars as they fall into the sea.”
* * *
She changed from the blue and green dress to a nightgown that Roarke had bought her. It was made of ivory silk and lace, and she smiled when she saw herself in the bedroom mirror.
“It’s beautiful.”
He came up behind her, handsome and powerful in his white dinner jacket and dark pants, and put his hands on her shoulders.
“You’re beautiful,” he said as he kissed her hair. He raised his head and looked at her steadily in the glass. “Are you happy with me?”
Her eyes met his. “Happier than I’ve been in my whole life,” she said softly.
“Good. That’s good. It’s excellent. Because—because—” He cleared his throat. “Hell,” he said, “I don’t know how to say this…”
“Say what?”
“Marry me.”
She stared at him in the mirror. “What?”
“I’m asking you to marry me—and, dammit, I don’t know why I didn’t ask you while we were still on that stretch of beach, in a romantic setting instead of like this—”
Jennifer laughed. For one swift heartbeat she felt a joy so great that it stole her breath away. But then she remembered what she had spent the last weeks trying to forget, and her laughter died.
“Thank you for asking me, but—”
“Thank you for asking me?” His voice was harsh. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Roarke. I love that you think you want to marry me, but—”
“You love that I think I want to marry you?”
“Look. I’m not saying this right, but—”
He spun her toward him. “What are you afraid of? Why do you keep hiding from me?”
“I’m not—”
“It’s as if there’s a wall between us, and I can’t get past it.”
What was between them were her lies, but how could she tell him that? How would any woman tell the man she loved that she had abandoned her own child, that she had come into his life not by accident but by subterfuge, that even the name he knew her by was a fabrication?
“You say you have secrets. And I told you whatever your secrets are, they don’t matter.” He drew a long breath. “They don’t—but I can tell that they matter to you. So tell me what they are. Get them out in the open. And I promise, nothing will change. Do you understand, sweetheart? Say whatever you have to say. Or don’t. Either way, I’ll love you.”
Her eyes met his. Was it—could it be—true? For the first time, Jennifer felt a flutter of hope.
Roarke put his arm around her shoulders and led her out to the balcony.
“Let me tell you what my life was like before you came along,” he said as he drew her down with him onto a chaise longue. “I got up in the morning, had a few minutes with Susu, then went to my office. At the day’s end, I left my office, headed home and spent some time with Susu.” He dropped a light kiss on Jennifer’s temple. “Except for the time I spent with my daughter, the hours of my life were hollow.”